


The Last Companion

by SunflowerSupreme



Series: The Companions [1]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Anal Sex, Cuddling & Snuggling, Double Anal Penetration, Explicit Consent, Foursome - M/M/M/M, Immortal Jaskier | Dandelion, M/M, Multi, Post-Coital Cuddling, Prompted Work, Sexual Slavery, Slave Jaskier | Dandelion, Slavery, Soft Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Soft Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Spanking, Switching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-13
Updated: 2020-11-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:41:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27536233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunflowerSupreme/pseuds/SunflowerSupreme
Summary: Prompt: Geralt holding Dandelion's head while he gets absolutely reamed from behind by Eskel and/or Lambert. Just Geralt petting him and telling him how good he is and being soft and loving.
Relationships: Eskel/Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion/Lambert, Eskel/Jaskier | Dandelion, Eskel/Jaskier | Dandelion/Lambert, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: The Companions [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2017007
Comments: 14
Kudos: 326





	The Last Companion

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve gotten a couple of requests for Sex!Slave Dandelion so I thought I’d combine that with this prompt. No idea what the background of this is but oh well.

There were two options for boys sent to Kaer Morhen.

The strong ones, those most liable to survive the Trials, trained as Witchers. The rest - called Companions - underwent a different sort of training, learning to please the Witchers, to handle their tempers, and to soften their edges. And, most importantly, to take their cocks.

Dandelion had been the only Companion to survive the massacre that had killed most everyone at Kaer Morhen. He’d been badly wounded, left with a permanent limp, but once he’d healed he’d gone right back into performing his duties for the survivors. It was all he knew, after all.

He panted as Geralt stroked his hair. “Please,” he moaned. “Please.”

“Shhhhh.” A fire crackled the hearth by Geralt’s chair. Dandelion, on all fours, had his chin resting on Geralt’s lap. “Settle down, Dandelion, settle down.”

Behind him, Lambert was cutting a switch.

Dandelion whimpered.

“Oh for fucks sake,” complained Eskel, looking up from the book he was reading. “Get it over with Lambert, you know he hates the wait.”

Lambert said nothing, still looking irritated as he worked on the switch.

“I’m sorry,” whined the slave, shivering in the frigid air. Even the fire didn’t balance out his lack of clothing. “Lambert-”

“Geralt, make him shut up,” growled Lambert. “Or I’ll use a real whip on his precious ass.”

“You claim his voice annoys you and yet you make him scream more than Eskel and I combined,” Geralt pointed out, continuing to rub Dandelion’s hair soothingly.

“He does,” whined Dandelion petulantly. “Mean old man.”

Eskel laughed. “I wouldn’t tease him, Flower,” he rumbled. “Not when he’s already decided to whip you.”

“Unless he wants Lambert to hurt him,” offered Geralt, cupping his hand under Dandelion’s head and scratching his chin. “One might come to the conclusion that he likes it.”

“I hate it,” announced Dandelion, much to the amusement of the Witchers. “Just like I hate all of you.”

“Sure, Dandelion, sure,” Geralt chuckled. “You certainly didn’t sound like you hated when I sucked your cock this morning.”

“You spoil him,” accused Eskel, but his tone wasn’t concerned. They’d all grown more attached to Dandelion since the massacre, not just because he was the only Companion left, but because still, years later, he woke up in the night screaming for help and clutching his scarred leg.

Geralt shrugged. Dandelion might technically be communal property, but they all knew who he was closest to. Even before the siege Geralt had always brought him gifts when he visited in the winter (usually books and once, when he’d been given it as payment for a contract, a lute), and after the siege, when there was no reason for Dandelion to spend his summers at Kaer Morhen, he’d often taken him with him.

He bent over and pressed a kiss to the slave’s head. “Squeeze my leg if he hits too hard, love,” he murmured.

Companions like Dandelion weren’t taught consent, just to spread their legs to whatever Witcher wanted them. After the massacre, when there was no one left to stop him, Geralt had spent years trying to explain it to him. Dandelion had fainted the first time he’d looked Lambert in the eyes and said “no” when the Witcher told him to suck him off. When he’d woken up, they’d celebrated by getting outrageously drunk.

Finally finished cutting the switch Lambert pushed himself to his feet, saying, “Tense up, Buttercup.” That was the only warning Dandelion got before he cracked the switch over his ass.

He screamed and lurched forward. Geralt rested his hand between Dandelion’s shoulder blades and rubbed gently.

Lambert growled and struck him again, lower than before, across his thighs.

“I’m sorry,” Dandelion whined. He tried to pull back but Geralt pushed down firmly on his back, keeping him pinned in place. Eskel set his book aside as Lambert continued the punishment, standing and slowly making his way to the fire, tossing in another log.

“Eskel,” Dandelion sobbed. “Make him stop.”

“Don’t call him a pussy next time, and he won’t switch you,” said Eskel, patting his shoulder absentmindedly as he returned to his chair.

“I hate you all,” sobbed Dandelion. Geralt rubbed his hair. A particularly hard hit from the switch made him lurch forward and squeal loudly.

“Geralt, make him shut up,” complained Lambert.

Geralt pushed his fingers into Dandelion’s mouth. “Don’t bite me,” he murmured. The man sucked on his fingers happily. 

When Lambert changed the angle of his strikes, catching Dandelion’s back rather than his ass or thighs, Geralt gave a quick shake of his head. It wasn’t that Dandelion had expressed any discomfort having his back hit, just that he still had scars from whippings he’d received before the massacre. The remaining Witchers never intentionally broke his skin, but that didn’t change the fact that in the past people had.

Lambert nodded and landed the next strike squarely on his ass.

“Can either of you see his dick?” Eskel hadn’t picked up his book when he’d sat back down, choosing instead to watch Lambert discipling Dandelion. His eyes were fixed under Dandelion, where neither Geralt nor Lambert could see.

“No, but I can smell his arousal,” said Geralt with a snort.

Dandelion wiggled and whined pathetically.

Lambert leaned over and glanced under Dandelion’s stomach, at his cock, and snorted, giving him a few quick strokes. “Slut,” he taunted.

Dandelion growled around Geralt’s fingers.

“I think he wants you to fuck him,” observed Eskel. “Might rebel if you don’t.”

“Wouldn’t mind a slave rebellion,” offered Lambert. “I could give him a good, long thrashing and chain him down.”

Lambert prepared him far quicker than Geralt would have, barely stretching him at all before pressing his cock inside him, and Dandelion’s sobs grew louder. But he didn’t squeeze Geralt’s ankle, so he just kept stroking his hair.

“Come on, Eskel,” grunted Lambert. “There’s room for two.”

Eskel glanced toward Geralt, as if to check that he wouldn’t get snapped at for attempting, but Geralt had leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes, petting Dandelion absentmindedly. Deciding there was no harm Eskel sidled up beside Lambert, kneeling down and beginning to stretch Dandelion a bit more. He took more care than Lambert, making sure he woudn’t be hurt, and reaching to rub his back, murmuring, “You alright, Flower?”

Geralt pulled his fingers from Dandelion’s mouth, allowing him to whimper out a weak, “Uh huh.”

Eskel knelt beside Lambert, lining his cock up with Dandelion’s hole, and slowly pressed in.

Dandelion wailed and arched his back, gasping and moaning as they both thrust into his ass. “Pl-please,” he sobbed.

“Please what?” Geralt asked. 

“F-f-fuck.” Tears bathed his pale cheeks and Geralt reached out gently to stroke them away. “H-hurts.”

“Yeah, yeah,” grumbled Lambert. “Don’t act like you don’t love it.”

Even through his tears, Dandelion managed a smile.

“You ought to use his mouth, Geralt,” grunted Lambert.

“And risk getting bitten when you thrust too hard?” Geralt shook his head. “I’ll have my turn when you’re done.”

“Suit yourself.”

Sweat beaded on Dandelion’s shoulders as they continued fucking him. He was no longer shivering in the cold, instead he’d turned a rosy red, warm from the whipping and the physical exertion. Lambert came with a noisy grunt, locking his hips against Dandelion’s and pumping him full of cum before falling back with a content sigh. Eskel merely shifted slightly, changing his angle, slowing his speed a bit, and continuing to thrust into Dandelion.

A moment later the slave sobbed, his body shaking as his cock spilled across the floor. Still, Eskel kept thrusting into his ass.

Geralt cupped his hand behind Dandelion’s head, knotting his fingers in his hair and pulling his head forward slightly. Although he was still wearing his trousers it was fun to let Dandelion know what was coming next, rubbing his cheek against Geralt’s crotch and letting him feel his erection.

The slave nuzzled into him, moaning slightly.

Eskel’s nails dug into Dandelion’s sides, and he finally came with a pleased noise, nearly a growl, but also close to a whine. He rubbed Dandelion’s back for a moment, then pulled back and joined Lambert, sprawled by the fire.

Geralt helped the overstimulated man up and into his lap, mindful of his damaged leg. “You gonna let me fuck you?” he murmured, stroking tears off Dandelion’s face.

“You’d better,” mumbled Dandelion.

Geralt unlaced his pants, just enough to free his straining erection, and held Dandelion’s hips, slowly lowering him onto his cock.

He groaned and leaned his head forward onto Geralt’s shoulder, eyes closing in bliss. He was soft and well stretched, dripping a mixture of oil and cum that allowed Geralt to easily thrust into him, building into a steady rhythm.

Geralt was already well on his way climax, having been hard from the moment Dandelion laid his head in his lap, and he didn’t hold back, grunting and filling the slave with another round of semen. 

Then, without removing his flaccid cock, he wrapped his arms around his waist and pulled him into his arms. Dandelion mumbled sleepily, shifting and burying his face in Geralt’s shoulder, then licking his neck. “You said you would take you with me this year,” he said softly.

“I said I might.”

Dandelion pouted. “It’s you or Lambert, and I don’t like to be called a stupid slut all the time.”

“I heard that!” came Lambert’s protest from across the room. But he didn’t bother to get up, still half asleep with Eskel’s head on his chest.

“You are a stupid slut,” Geralt snorted. But he smiled. They all knew Dandelion was far smarter than he liked to show, since he’d received most of the same instruction as they had, just without the combat parts. He had also read the entire library of Kaer Morhen three times and had cried when Vesemir had suggested using a book as toilet paper.

He often spent the summers traveling with Geralt, but with his limp - and lack of fighting skills - he tended to be a liability. Geralt didn’t like worrying about him all the time. 

“Yeah,” muttered Dandelion. “But even we whores have our preferences.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“I’m taking that as a yes,” said Dandelion cheerfully. “I was thinking we could visit Novigrad, see a play, perhaps?”

“Hmm. Perhaps.”

They both knew that meant yes.

**Author's Note:**

> Fun fact: Its canon that the Witchers use books as toilet paper.


End file.
